


Beauty of Winning

by heartofspells



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofspells/pseuds/heartofspells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s raining, Sirius is bored, and Remus cannot handle a dog’s whine. Beach day it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty of Winning

**Author's Note:**

> Large, gigantic, massive thanks to xkeijukainenx/Heidi, the doll that she is, for the spectacular beta job. Would have been lost without her.
> 
> Art belongs to [livinglibraries](http://livinglibraries.livejournal.com/).

Remus should have known not to listen to Sirius, he really should have. Everyone was always telling him that he was smart; a gifted wizard with a brilliant mind. Honestly, sometimes he had no idea what they were all on about.

“Beach,” Sirius had answered to an unasked question.

Remus, who had been seated quite comfortably in an armchair reading, had glanced up with raised eyebrows. “What?” he’d asked in confusion.

Sirius had sprung from his sprawled position on the floor before Remus’ mouth had even opened properly. “Beach,” he’d stated again. At Remus’ continued bafflement, Sirius had explained. “I want to go. To the beach. Today.”

Remus’ mouth had dropped open in a very wide, very surprised gape. “Today?” he’d questioned, his voice slightly higher than he would have liked. After clearing his throat, he’d continued. “You are aware that the end of the world is upon us outside those windows, aren’t you?” A very loud crash of thunder had punctuated his words.

“It’s only a little storm, Moony,” Sirius had scoffed, kneeling in front of Remus. “And I hardly think it will be raining _everywhere in the world_.”

“So says you,” Remus had muttered, a disgruntled huff accompanying his words.

“Please, Rem?” Sirius had begged, propping his chin on Remus’ knee and staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I know the perfect place. You’d love it. We can even play that Muggle game we saw in that film.”

“Those puppy eyes aren’t going to work on me, Padfoot,” Remus had informed the pitiful looking man.

And, of course, they hadn’t. Remus Lupin never lied unless he absolutely had to. The whine, however, had had the desired effect.

Which is how they ended up here, standing in a small hut overlooking the ocean on a cliff-side. And Remus is, quite reticently, willing to admit that it is rather beautiful. Sirius keeps looking up at him smugly as he changes into his swimming shorts, until Remus pushes him into the bathroom and locks him in. Sirius barks out a laugh through the door, but doesn’t complain because he knows he’s won this round. Remus is here, at the beach, in the sun, and he is only slightly apathetic. Sirius will always consider such a thing a victory.

As Remus fiddles with the braided string attached to the waistband of his own shorts, Sirius manages to unlock the door and emerges from the bathroom, grin spread wide and throwing a red ball between his hands. Remus’ fingers pause on the knot at the end of the string as he studies Sirius intently for a silent moment. Sirius begins to fidget under the scrutiny.

“What?” he finally asks, a sharp bite entering his voice.

Remus’ eyes track the ball as it flies through the air. “That’s a Quaffle,” he responds and Sirius rolls his eyes.

“Is it?” says Sirius derisively, his eyes also looking at the ball. “I never would have known, Moony.”

Remus’ mouth pulls into a thin, disapproving line and Sirius smirks. “I meant _why_ are you bringing a Quaffle?” he elaborates, shaking his head in exasperation. “That’s not the type of ball we’re supposed to play with.”

Sirius places the red ball on top of his head and attempts to balance it there as he replies, “Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

Remus’ shoulders droop in defeat as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to go home,” he mutters.

Sirius’ head jerks up in surprise and the Quaffle falls to the floor, rolling across the wooden boards pathetically until it hits Remus’ foot and stops. “You can’t go home, Moons. We just got here!” he protests loudly. “I’ll be good, I promise. Just – just come and play in the sand with me, yeah?”

“This was a horrible idea. I’ve no idea why I let you talk me into it,” Remus says, shaking his head. “I don’t even like sand, Sirius. It’s gritty and uncomfortable. And it seems to take weeks to get rid of, no matter how much you bathe.”

Sirius’ eyes shift around the small room as his teeth nibble at his bottom lip, his entire being looking utterly lost. After a brief moment, however, he glances back at Remus, a devilish spark glinting behind his lashes as his mouth pulls up at the corners. Remus’ stomach twists and he feels lightheaded at the sight because he knows from great amounts of experience that such a look is both incredibly bad and marvelously wonderful. Sirius steps forward, his moves casual, but still full of some hidden intent that sends shivers racing down Remus’ spine, and Remus has no idea how the other man is able to do such a thing. All he knows – and wishes that he could deny, but really, he can’t; he never could – is that he loves every single small second of it.

A rough-skinned and gentle hand wraps around the back of Remus’ neck and pulls him closer. There are lips pressing against his ear and moist, warm breath ghosting over the shell of it as Sirius whispers, “Stay, and I promise to make it worth your while.”

Remus swallows with difficulty. “How?” he asks, ignoring the catch in his voice and attempting to do the same to the fingertips trailing along the nape of his neck.

He feels Sirius’ lips pull up into a smirk against his ear. “You’ll see,” he replies, and then he’s gone, the Quaffle back in his hands as his feet make their progress out the door.

Remus takes a brief moment to ignore the catching of breath in his chest and consider the eccentricities of the other man. Sirius has always had knack for the anticipations of life, and Remus assumes that this will probably never change. It’s a talent most could never claim, but Sirius has always prided himself in the odd. Sirius Black has a way of taking the most mundane of words, occurrences, and actions and setting the calmest of men (Remus) hanging from tenterhooks over the side of the rockiest, most dangerous cliff in existence. Thinking of this, Remus suddenly wonders if Sirius’ ideal place for a beach day is a mere coincidence. Probably not, but Remus is under the impression that hope is his best form of defense.

Just as Remus regains control of his breathing and turns to make his way outside, Sirius sticks his head back around the door frame. “Coming, Rem?” he asks, his expression still wicked.

Remus huffs – because, really, no matter how much he wants to argue otherwise, it’s the only true form of defense he has – and pushes Sirius’ head away as he passes. “Of course I’m coming. Beach day. Ra ra,” he says with mock enthusiasm. Sirius snorts in amusement and follows Remus down the hill to the beach, resuming his Quaffle throws.

They’re quiet for a time before Sirius asks, “So. What type of ball _are_ we supposed to use?”

“A volleyball,” replies Remus distractedly, trying his best to keep the sand from wedging itself into every crevice his toes contain. He really does hate sand. It’s very itchy.

“A whatsit?” Sirius’ voice holds a note of confusion and when Remus glances up, he has to hold back a laugh when he sees that the man’s eyebrows are knit together in puzzlement. James had dubbed this Sirius’ ‘siriusly perplexed’ face in first year. Sirius had not been amused by the name then. He still isn’t.

Clearing his throat, Remus answers, “A volleyball. They’re white, about the size of a Quaffle, I suppose, and…” Remus pauses in thought, staring out over the blue ocean water and nibbling his cheek contemplatively. “You know, I really don’t know how to describe one. Only seen it in that film.”

“So, really, you can’t say that a Quaffle _wouldn’t_ work, can you?” Sirius says, expression smug as he gazes at Remus.

Remus kicks at the sand in front of him, forgoing any attempt to keep it from encroaching, but doesn’t respond. Sirius’ smirk reappears. And, just like that, he’s won again. Sirius two, Remus and humanity, absolutely zero. It really is unfair.

Coming to the bottom of the hill and leveling out with the main beach, Remus glances around as Sirius begins to search for a decent place for them to begin their game. He had noticed early on that it was peculiarly quiet for such a nice day, but hadn’t paid it much mind until now.

“Where is everyone?” he asks curiously.

Sirius grins as he drops the ball to the ground, bends down, scoops up two large handfuls of sand, and throws it over his head, allowing it to fall back down around him. “The beach is sort of private, in a sense,” he replies happily. “Can’t find it unless you know where it’s at.” Remus’ eyebrows rise as Sirius looks at him and his grey eyes flash devilishly.

“You’re not having naughty thoughts, are you, Rem?”

Remus crosses his arms and turns his head towards the water, pursing his lips as he says, “Of course not. I was simply…wondering about tourism.” He stops and mentally smacks himself because he knows he sounds pathetic.

Sirius grins knowingly because he has, yet again, won another round. Remus hates it.

“So!” Sirius says jovially, clapping his hands together. “We need a net, yeah?” Sirius’ wand is suddenly in his hand and Remus gawks a bit. Where the man has been hiding the thing, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts as he is, Remus honestly doesn’t know, nor does he think he wants to. “This look like a well enough spot?” Sirius asks, motioning to a patch of sand that looks exactly like every other patch of sand surrounding them.

Remus shrugs and waves for Sirius to continue. Soon enough, a net stretches high and wide between them and Sirius is bounding around Remus excitedly. He grabs Remus by the shoulders and positions him on one side of the net before limboing under it to get to his own.

Sirius lifts the Quaffle up and eyes it questioningly before doing the same to the net. “So, I suppose we just…” He trails off as he throws the ball in the air and smacks it as hard as he can with his palm.

“Sirius, wait –!” Remus begins, but it is too late and he’s cut off as the Quaffle hits him forcefully in the middle of his forehead.

He stands, stunned, for a short moment before he falls backwards into the sand and stares dazedly up at the bright blue sky. What few clouds are present are twisting and morphing into the most ridiculous shapes he has ever seen. There is a giraffe with seven legs and no head, a car that looks like a lion in disguise, and a nose.

Remus blinks and realises that the nose is not actually in the sky, but more or less attached to a face. He thinks it would be much easier to tell if he wasn’t seeing triple of everything.

 

“Rem?” Sirius says tentatively, smoothing brown strands of hair away from Remus’ reddened forehead. “Moony, you all right?”

“Think ‘m hallucinating,” Remus mumbles in answer.

Sirius stares at him in concern. “Why?”

“’Cause you’re pretty,” says Remus, and then he begins to laugh. Sirius stares down at him for a long moment before he snorts in amusement and leans down, pressing his lips to Remus’, stifling the laughter and swallowing it greedily.

  
He pulls back and grins down at Remus. “Sorry about that,” he apologises, lightly running his thumb over the red skin. “What d’you say I give you that reward I promised earlier as a peace offering?”

“Depends,” Remus murmurs. “Will I like it?”

Sirius smiles as he leans back in. “I think you’ll love it,” he whispers, pressing their lips together again as his hands travel down to the hem of the shirt Remus had insisted on wearing.

“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus gasps, pulling out of the kiss as his own hands jerk down to restrain Sirius’ and his eyes hastily dart from side to side. He knows what Sirius is doing, of course. It is the same thing the man is always doing. Sirius is undressing Remus, and while that in itself is a generally pleasant thing which Remus rarely objects to, this has to be one of those times. Someone could see, after all, and that would not be any good at all.

Sirius smiles patiently, twisting his hands so that his fingers are able to wrap around Remus’. “Relax, Rem,” he says softly. “Private, remember? There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Remus turns his head to look at the small hut and worries his bottom lip. Sirius leans forward, pressing his lips to Remus’ ear as he whispers, “It’ll be all right, Moony. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Remus’ gaze shifts and he stares up into Sirius’ twinkling grey eyes. A shiver races down his spine as warm breath ghosts over his skin and slowly does as he’s told. As he feels Remus’ muscles relax beneath him, Sirius moves his hands under the edges of Remus’ shirt and rests them against the pale skin gently, carefully sliding them up Remus’ torso to push the fabric away.

Remus lifts his shoulders from the ground as Sirius pulls the shirt over his head, their lips pressing together almost immediately after the material is gone. His hands trail down Remus’ chest, fingers working like long, tanned spiders over the sensitive skin, searching out raised and twisted scars. He traces them down and down and further still, Remus’ breath becoming shorter the lower they travel, until they connect with the scrunched band of Remus’ shorts. Sirius smiles slightly against Remus’ lips as his fingers skirt the edge of the band, searching for the braided tie string. When he finds it, he gives it a sharp pull, loosening the bunched material enough to easily tug them free of Remus’ hips.

Remus hisses as the mesh fabric brushes his half-hard cock when Sirius pulls the shorts away. Sirius grins against Remus’ lips in satisfaction and Remus has to grit his teeth to keep from biting the other man – not that Sirius would mind much, he’s sure. While Sirius’ hands rove over Remus’ stomach and chest, purposefully avoiding the one thing that desires his attention the most, Remus moves his own hands down to the band of Sirius’ shorts, locating the braided cord and copying Sirius’ previous movements. Sirius nips at Remus’ ear as the shorts are removed and huffs out a laugh when Remus jumps in surprise.

“Let’s go swimming,” he says in barely more than a breathy whisper and Remus’ entire body heats at the very thought.

Taking his silence as a willing confirmation, Sirius pulls Remus to his feet and leads him out into the water. He flops and splashes and laughs and Remus watches in amazed fascination, completely enchanted. Sirius is the most beautiful and free creature Remus has ever seen, and to be allowed to witness something so magnificent is more than he deserves. He’s almost jealous, to an extent. He has never and will never be anywhere near as carefree and reckless as Sirius is and probably always will be.

Though, that really isn’t true. The truth is that Remus is perfectly capable of being wild and thoughtless, he simply doesn’t wish to be, and that makes quite a bit of difference. It’s depressing, really, to think that even now, standing in the bluest of oceans, completely naked and accompanied by his equally naked boyfriend, he has no more hope of being less controlled – contained – than he has ever been.

Until, that is, a very firm weight slams quite forcefully against his back and knocks him face first in to the water with a mighty splash. He surfaces after a few short seconds, sputtering and coughing, staring at a beaming Sirius Black in complete astonishment.

Minutes pass in silence and when the water has stopped streaming out of Remus’ hair and Sirius has still said nothing, Remus says caustically, “I suppose you’re proud of yourself, are you?”

Sirius grins. “Just a bit,” he replies. His head cocks to the side, studying Remus curiously and looking more like Padfoot than Sirius. He pushes himself forward slowly, his head rotating from side to side. “When I said we should go swimming, Rem, I didn’t mean I should go swimming and you should watch. I meant you had to play with me.”

“You said nothing of the sort,” Remus huffs stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It was implied,” counters Sirius, continuously moving closer slowly.

Remus’ lips pull into a tight line. “But never said,” he insists. Sirius doesn’t reply, but a wicked gleam enters his eyes as he closes the distance between them and Remus’ heart leaps into his throat in slight panic. His arms uncross and begin to scramble below the water for purchase to push himself up to his feet. Sirius, seeing this, increases his pace and Remus’ panic grows. “Sirius, what are you –? Just, wait, calm down and – Wooaawh!” he screams just as Sirius pounces and he manages to push himself up and away.

He darts through the water, but not nearly quickly enough. Sirius’ fingers wrap around his ankle and pull forcefully enough to send Remus sprawling into the water once more. Sirius crows in delight before he leaps and tackles Remus backwards, cackling madly in the process. Sirius pushes Remus’ head below the surface of the water, his own following directly after, and presses their lips together in an enthusiastic kiss. Remus relents shortly after.

They play in the water for a long while after, tackling, splashing, and each attempting to trap the other in some form of embrace. When the sun begins to set, they giddily make their way back to the beach. Running up behind him, Sirius grabs Remus around the waist, twisting him and pulling him back onto a striped towel that had been conjured sometime or another. Laughing, they collapse back against the terry cloth in exhaustion. With Sirius’ arms still wrapped around him, Remus stares up at the sky as he attempts to gain control of his breathing.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sirius says softly, following Remus’ gaze. “Looks like a painting.”

Remus’ eyes glide over the mixed oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples greedily. “It is,” he agrees, sitting up. “It’s really too bad we can’t see more things like it.”

Sirius props himself up on one elbow, stretching his other arm out so that it drapes lazily across Remus’ stomach. He studies Remus intently for a silent moment before he says, “You don’t get it, do you?”

Remus turns his head to look down at Sirius in surprise. “Get what?”

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/heartofspells/pic/0001xd73/)

Sirius’ hand lifts and he waves out towards the ocean and sky. “That, it’s nothing,” he declares. “Remus, every day, everywhere you go, you see beautiful things. You spend so much time worrying that you don’t pay them any mind. Think about spring flowers or autumn leaves. Think about the first time you saw Harry laugh. Think about an old woman with blue hair.” Sirius smiles slightly and glances up at Remus. “But that isn’t even the half of it. When I think about beauty, I see you in the mornings, before you’ve even woken up. Or the faces you make when you’re brushing your teeth. I see the look of utter happiness that comes over your eyes when you smell the pages of an old book.” He stops and looks back out at the ocean. “Compared to that, this _doesn’t_ compare.”

Sirius has barely finished speaking before Remus is leaning down and catching the man’s lips in a passionate kiss. The words, regardless of how simple they are, go straight to his heart and make it difficult for him to breathe. Sirius starts in surprise, but soon enough, he’s relaxing into the kiss, his hand coming up to thread through Remus’ hair.

There are so many things that Remus wants to say in this moment; so many things that would be perfect and right, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that it doesn’t really matter. Sirius has won the most important round of all; he always does, and he always shares his victory with Remus.

And that, Remus decides, is the most important type of beauty in all the world.


End file.
